


run baby run

by orphan_account



Category: Persona 5
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Sneaking Out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-12-01 13:59:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11487822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: phony princess dates nasty crimeboy, would watch a shogi anime





	run baby run

**Author's Note:**

> "there's no hifumiakira fics!!" SAY NO MORE

She said, "I have a request," and of course he said yes, so here he is twenty-three minutes later, yearning for Metaverse dexterity or Yusuke's absurd upper-body strength as he scales up to her room in a regrettable pair of jeans and his tarnished hoodie. He could've texted her, he realized halfway up, but then you can call Akira nothing if not extra, and at least she'll enjoy the novelty of the thing.

He pulls down his hood and raps at her balcony. Three swift taps, a hand over his hair, a push to set his glasses back in place.

Seconds later she slides the glass open and slips out, still in her school uniform but without her bow; lids drooping and mouth heavy, she allows an impish delight to lurk in her eyes at the sight of him.

"Hey," says Akira, feeling warm.

"Hey," replies Hifumi, and shivers, curling her palms around the railing and glancing beyond as if this is a view in which she hasn't indulged prior. She's bouncing on the soles of her feet; rubbing her hands together—with glee or for friction or both—she practically twirls around when she says, "Shall we?"

They shall; Akira hitches himself over the side and proffers a hand, smirking. She accepts and they descend, except that going down is harder than coming up—this time Akira can't afford the luxury of not looking below, and when he falls with a yelp she's around to think him a moron, even if he manages to swing his arms and land on his feet.

Hifumi's last jump is a bit more graceful, and she's smiling for muffled laughter, unimpressed. "You're not quite as good as I expected. Maybe I was wrong about you?"

"Not my area of expertise," says Akira, and pulls up his hood. It's easier to channel Joker on solid ground; he slides his hand in hers. They set to a jog. "Sorry, I couldn't find getaway horses. But where to, General Togo?"

"Anywhere, as long as it's not the church," she says, and thinks to add a "please," like a careful apology to her usual sanctuary. Other places have traditionally been off-limits after dark, but then here she is, a self-confessed phony princess sneaking out with her allegedly-dead criminal boyfriend.

"Akiba?" he suggests, and knows before she speaks that it's a yes—she squeezes his hand and skips a little in excitement, parts her mouth a moment earlier than she asks, "Oh, oh, would the shops still be open?"

They would be, but he shrugs. "I have lockpicks."

In fact, Akihabara is electric and alive; the bustle and the lights leak into the station before they step out, and Hifumi is moving faster, both bewitched and compensating too much for "normal." She seems to think everything is funny: from the mecha to the moeblobs (which Futaba impressively named for him last time he brought her but seem blissfully new to Hifumi) smiling down at them, Hifumi decides with a flourish, "My mother would _hate_ to see me here."

"I dunno," says Akira, thinking of Idol Day at the maid café. "It's an easy demographic."

She hums, incredulous that shogi of all things would draw the attention of otaku.

"You wouldn't watch an anime about shogi?"

"Of course I would," says Hifumi, preening. "Would you?"

Nope. He grins.

"As I suspected."

She combs her fingers through her hair then, as if she's just noticed the unruliness. Then she dismisses it and angles their walk toward the vendors, ready for a survey of the shops. They stop at the electronics store mostly because it's one with which he's familiar, and loiter there for the warmth; from its window, Hifumi spots the arcade, so of course Akira has to challenge her to Gun About (and entertains briefly the idea of passing an elementary schooler's mastery to a Hifumi in the Metaverse, as he did with the others). The crane game awards them with nothing particularly noteworthy, so Hifumi refuses to try the capsules, but when Akira gives it a shot, he presents her with Cu Chulainn. He's carefully steering her away from the café and view of Mishima when she notices the hole-in-the-wall card shop tucked between two eateries, and tugs at his sleeve. "There's something I want to check out."

"Sure," he says, and leads the way.

Inside she forgets her reticence. Every wall of the shop is covered with trading cards like hieroglyphs in a pyramid (a stupid part of him wonders immediately if a nerd has ever died here, before slowing down to whether Futaba plays any of these) and Hifumi's entranced—and, apparently, familiar. Returning the shopkeeper's greeting she makes a beeline for a display in the back of the store advertising cards from some new anime, lips moving as she mutters the flavor text to herself. Akira leans down as if to eavesdrop—she takes his invitation to burst into enthusiasm.

"They're the trial decks for Dragoborne! I was focusing on shogi so I couldn't really—well, I haven't been able to play trading card games since primary school, but now that she—and that you—" She's flush and shakes her head. "It's new. And I'm getting two."

Ten minutes later they've obtained steaming cups of tea (decent) and a standing table at the adjacent diner, have laid out two playmats for a card game that neither of them knows how to play, but Hifumi's squinting cyclically between her instruction book and a card in her hand, determined to teach herself and teach him and then to secure her victory. It seems fairly logical—less complicated than it could be, childhood favorites considered—and Akira shifts through his own deck with dexterity, easily memorizing attributes. _Both_ being novices this time, and him now having Joker's tactical experience and her guidance and also the adrenaline of having beaten her at Gun About earlier, are bonuses—he remembers his earliest days with Hifumi, when even being in her presence made him feel like Ryuji.

Five more minutes and they're posed to flip over their first cards.

"Ready?" she dares him, all fire.

"This match"—he fixes his glasses with the tips of his fingers and his thumb—"is already decided."

—In a draw. They're kicked out for being too loud, and their cackling visible in the cold, decide to scuttle for the train. Hifumi's in even better spirits than she was when she first opened her trial deck; now she pulls her bag onto her lap and retrieves the deckbox, bouncing it in her palm with satisfaction. "I think I'll buy one of these for my father, too."

Something about the air is vulnerable, free. Safe.

"Your mother won't mind?"

Hifumi frowns. For the first time all night, she allows herself to deflate, to return to the somber voice on the phone which asked about changes of hearts and Akira's thoughts on the long-term of them, both as a phantom thief and everything else which he's become. When her mother's heart was stolen, where did it go, to return like this and spill darknesses so easily?

"It's true my mother has had a change of heart," she says, finally. She's tracing the pattern of her school tie with her thumb, back and forth, back and forth. "For all that she means well, she hasn't been keeping many secrets lately." A pause. She looks up. "It isn't the Phantom Thieves' fault, or anything." It's better than living a lie or in fear. "It's… healing. Setting the pieces back to home."

"Which can be harder than you expect," he says.

"Yes," she agrees, breathing in. "It can."

* * *

This time she steps to the front door and rings the bell.

"My father knew I was out." Her mischief is a wink and a kiss on his cheek. "General Kurusu!"

At attention!

"Thank you for everything."


End file.
